


What We Almost Had

by TrishaCollins



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Gen, M/M, Past Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2019-06-27 04:01:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15677619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrishaCollins/pseuds/TrishaCollins
Summary: On the heels of finding out about aliens and meeting with Commander Holt, James seeks out advice.





	What We Almost Had

The thing about Lt. West was that he had an aggressively open door policy. Lt. West was good with students, excellent with pilot class, knew the newest gen fighters inside and out. James was fairly certain he wouldn’t have survived his second level exams without West and his patience. 

So when he saw the door was open, he had just gone in, only to see one of the people he respected the most in this place hunched over, shoulders shaking, clearly locked in a private moment of grief. 

“…sir?” James wasn’t sure what to do, frozen in place with the distinct knowledge that he had seen something he shouldn’t.

West spun, face red and blotchy from where he’d been crying. “What?” His voice came out distantly, crackly. 

“…I can come back.”

“Just. Fuck. James-Griffin.” West lifted a hand, mopping at his face, smearing snot and tears over his cheeks. “Ignore this. Ask your question.”

“…are you sure? What happened?”

“It’s done. It happened a long ago.” West settled on the edge of his desk, pinching the bridge of his nose before removing his glasses and wiping them on his shirt. “Ask. Whatever it is, it’s more important than this.” 

“I…Iverson is going to have us testing the new sims. He said there are going to be prototypes soon. You’ve seen the sims, I wanted….well. You. Are you sure you’re ok?” 

West gave a dry, sad chuckle, putting his glasses back on. “Are any of us? Its fine, Griffin. Sit down. Let’s talk through this.” He grimaced. “So. Holt’s grabbed you four?”

“We’re not supposed to talk about him.” He admitted, sitting down with the pad on the table in front of him.

West snorted. “Of course not. It will be the only thing anyone is talking about in less than a week, but we’ll allow them to pretend their secrets are secrets for now. So. What have they told you?”

“He’s building prototypes. Four of them. For us to fly. Based off the ship he arrived in. He says he can make them work. I just…. I know there’s a risk associated with prototypes. But what if they work and then…we’re still just cadets. Won’t they reassign it to someone more…experienced?” He made a gesture to include West in that.

Lt. West seemed to consider for a moment. “Well, honestly. They might try. But I doubt it will work. I’ve tried the sims based on the alien tech. My response time on them isn’t great. You’re younger, you don’t have as many hours logged in the real thing as I do. Which means you’re more adaptive. So the brass might like the idea of using cadets for testing, and then sticking officers in the pilot seat, but it probably won’t work. Any other pilot on my level is going to run into the same issues. We’re not built to adapt to new OS.” 

He mulled that over. “So you think…”

“I think that new generation fighters need new generation pilots.” Lt. West managed a smile, though his face was still blotchy from crying. “Besides, from what we know, Voltron – our next best hope of anything – has pilots your age and younger. So we might as well get used to dealing with kids like you flying around while we have the chance.”

He snorted. “Do you…think they’re telling the truth? That Holt is?”

Lt. West looked distant and tired. “I hope he’s not lying. I hope we have a chance.” 

He looked at his hands. “Me too.”

“I’d think you would be happier. You’ve logged enough hours in the sim that you should be jumping for joy.” West looked away, staring out the window. 

“I am. I guess. It’s weird. Like.” He sighed. “I feel like everything is about to change.” 

“I think it already has, James.” West sighed. “I think we can’t put it back in the box. Earth… Even if we’re the only ones that know right now, the big scary monsters that science fiction has dreamed of for generations are coming.”

“Yeah.” He swallowed back against the lump in his throat. “Yeah. Exactly that.”

“I can help you, if you need. But I think you’ve learned what you need from my level of teaching.” West was gentle. “But I’ll be there to support you through this. To boldly go where few have gone before is a tall order.”

“Do you think we can do it?” He asked, chewing on his lip. “Sorry, that probably sounds…I dunno, childish. But it’s not like I can ask my parents or Holt.”

“I think you have the capacity. You just need a little more seasoning. But I think that the skills you need to be successful are there. Beyond that? I think it is up to you to make it work.” West leaned forward. “You need to decide how much you want this, and what you’re willing to let go of to make it a reality.”

He looked down. “My parents aren’t going to like this.”

“My experience with parents is limited to my own and Sh- and someone else’s. Mine accepted my path, others can’t.”

“My dad still thinks this is a phase and I’ll quit any time and go get my MBA.” He rolled his eyes. “None of my family is military. Just an uncle who got drafted during WW3. They don’t talk about him much.” 

“Hm. Civilians, then.” 

He nodded. “Pretty proud of it too.”

“Money, then?” West asked, picking up a picture frame and toying with the stand on the back. 

“Old money. Enough that most of them paid their way out of the draft.” He fidgeted with the pad. “Voluntarily serving in any sort of military would give my grandfather hives. He thinks I just want to be an astroexplorer.”

“Well. That’s one path, isn’t it?” West grimaced. “But now we know how much there is out there, it’s an option that has danger to it as well.” 

He knew the picture, it was one of West and Shirogane after the Mercury mission, arms around each other. “Do you think he’ll come back?”

West grinned, shaking his head and placing the picture back on his desk. “Probably not. But. Who knows? Impossible things keep happening. Do you want me to go down with you to the sims?”

“Do you want to stop by the bathroom on the way down?” He retorted. 

West touched his own cheek, pinching the skin. “That bad?”

“Pretty bad.” He admitted. 

“Well, then yes. Let’s stop by the lounge and you can walk me through your concerns with the new sims.”


End file.
